I spent my nights
on the sharpest edges,
imbibed supernatural fixes
to break ice,
make things seem better,
feel all nice.

On Kashmiri-tempo,
I looked for a cowgirl
in the sand with every day
one of intense celebration.
Bad to the bone was
the motto of logical songs.
Dust in the wind
& free birds never lied,
I cried in the cane break,
zig zagged through ghostland,
lived in
the twilight zone,
a young Turk
in love with radar,
alone on
Heaven's stairway.

The skill of the poetic linguist
is measured by
the reaction of the reader,
how they make them feel.

The use of tender,
imaginative-words
pushed gently from one side
of the written-line to the other
can create the desired effect.

Configuring
carefully-crafted stanzas,
& placing them
strategically
up & down
can sometimes elicit
the most reading pleasure.

Finding
the secret-sensitivities
of the heart can be tricky,
the most daunting of tasks,
but the skilled poetic linguist
can always find a way
it seems,
to create those
beautiful,
sensuous,
fiery-emotions.

And if you can find one,
just ask them
how it's done.
They are more than likely
ready,
willing & able,
to pen you a verse or two.
And perhaps,
maybe more.

In hiding
we cry
for a release
from the mundane,
with visions of greener grasses,
a better other side
beyond the thin veil
& with our remote dreams
tasting like anxiety
stuck in a throats,
we wrote poetry.

I just knew
it was the bandana that did it
& not my rugged-ways.
I take the full blame,
it was not your twinkling eyes,
nor the soft kisses you gave me
up & down
my aching body.

Your lovely pert *******
made no difference
& the way you held
me did not matter,
'cause someday
I just knew,
you might scatter.

The fresh fragrance
of your flawless skin
was of no consequence
& your sweet taste
was no big thrill.

O yes Lil' Darling
I do confess,
you did steal my heart,
you killed me
with your lady-finesse,
but I just knew,
if I could blame it
on my paisley scarf,
it would make it easier
when you left.

Lord knows,
how much
I miss you.

O sweet girl,
you lie so seductively,
teasing,
teasing me to no end.
You push,
you pull,
every single night,
you spread things
open to my delight.

O sweet girl,
you have some serious-magic,
you're a classic lady,
your moves & thighs,
your pretty-gorgeous-eyes
& heaving *******
drive me freaking-delirious,
you constantly
put me to the
passionate-test.

O sweet girl,
I must confess,
you are a delicious pearl,
please,
let me shuck you
tenderly,
savor your fluffy treasure,
play with a feather,
I can give you the
ultimate pleasure.

O sweet girl,
guide me,
take me deep
into your vise,
make me work
for your satisfaction,
hold me tight,
I promise not to fight.

O sweet darling,
it's much much more
than just a physical attraction,
it's a pheromone reaction,
hot-action made in Heaven,
******,
not neurotic.

Ross was good,
Part-Choctaw, Part-Saskatchewan,
he'd sniff the air for his direction,
could spot a pebble out of place,
understand broken twigs.

He loved to work at night,
backtracking was a skill,
garroting his specialty,
he had fourteen dings.

Part-Celt, Part-Heinz-57
I understood similar things,
my notches stand
at just under ten.

It was classic,
just like Delphi said it would be.
Bright lights
(I mean bright),
yellow walls
(shades of *****),
a low hum
(in the bass range).
Mister Suit
sporting a razor-thin mustache
sat stoic at a long black table
carrying a wry grin,
his eyes shades of pitch.
They unshackled me,
hands pushed me down
into a chrome chair
with a firm red leather cushion.
Screams came through the wall
from the room next to us.
I sat there just as stoic
across from him
with a wry smile
of my own.
It felt like a scene
from a stereotypical sci-fi flic,
it wasn't though.
This was as real as it gets,
these guys meant business.
Guys like me were trouble
for the Control Boys.
They'd find out soon
I wasn't a pushover.

All the good times I've had
happened when
I was wearing a red bandana.
It didn't matter where I was at,
sleepy towns,
ice cream shops,
near rivers or
on even mountaintops,
if I had my handkerchief on,
things were gonna be a-okay.

Love is a beautiful thing,
it's more beautiful
when your sigother
wears her own red bandana,
all through the night,
you can dance on paisley-stars.

Single rounds crack
in foreign valleys,
hitting their mark,
it's stark reality,
a secret,
still going on,
far far away.

Dark shadows circled my nest
on the ridgeline that
spooky winter night.
All I could see
was the moonglow
sifting through my misty breath,
glinting off my suppressor.
Icy winds whipped
up through the valley
to kiss my bearded face
& freeze my teardrops.
I thanked God for my pakol
and woolen fingerless gloves.
The fibers kept me warm
under the blanket of stars.
Not a cloud,
nor a single wisp
could I see against the pitch.
I had the itch to pop off a round
on a falling pebble.
But to do so,
might have meant certain death.
The area was crawling with bad guys,
insurgents looking for heads.

This shady-bar
gave you more ***** than mixer,
cheap spirits & rot gut elixirs flowed,
some did lines of flake on the teak.
By eight, most dates were sloppy drunk,
buzzed, frazzled to the gills,
schmoozing the feline-walk,
talking ****, listening to
Floyd or Skynyrd.
It was a circus of sorts.

Back in those days
we called the cops 'fuzz',
they'd make their rounds
every couple of hours,
it made it look like they were
using tax-dollars wisely,
but we students knew better,
******* establishment.

The parking lot was a mix
of racetrack & boxing ring.
Cars jammed, roared,
cruised, honked
their way
through the fistfights.

Once, I saw two sweet-babes,
real rough-cats scratch and claw
themselves to near death.
The flowered-blouse
on one was ripped clean off,
one of her ***** hung out,
it looked bruised.
Blood streamed down
both of their faces,
ruining their mascara.

When I look back,
it's quite amazing
any of us survived
that freaking place.
Now come to think of it,
the last time
I saw my buddy Marcus
was outside that
nasty-drinking-establishment.
He was ******* amongst
the drunks & excrement.
I really wonder how he survived,
if he made it out of that city
in one piece,
alive.

I carry scars,
blood blisters
& leather callouses
& my lower back
aches like hell,
but I do have
muscles.

How can one describe
these hot-pheromones
flowing wildly in space?

Without the genetic code,
the scent-nature of animal attraction,
can these electrical-keyboard
love-lust-connections really work?

Word-whisperings flow like an avalanche,
such heated-moments visualized
through the placement of the alphabet.

The ooooohhhhhh's & aaaaahhhhh's,
do me's & give it to me's,
building of fiery sentence-structures,
creates raptures beyond our wildest dreams.

Then the aftermath.
No hugs, no kisses.
A virtual wham bam, thank you mam
& a good day to you too sir,
I'll write you next time!

;;), :), ^^, --, 3:), :D, ;P, :-P, :)..., 0:), :x, B-),:-*, 69,=), >:)<.

O, I'm sure I missed a few!
O Darling, please please let me know...I'll text you...:-?

I gave you what you wanted,
took you to greater heights,
like I always did.

I fed you more & more & more
& more & more & more,
which I guess wasn’t good enough
for your cauldron
of your own dreams,
now broken.

It is peaceful here
in the meadow
outside your gate,
the zebras gather
& float between the ferns,
hues of jade & malachite.
I hear the lone Nightingale
deep in the bush
a **** does crow
& I am spellbound,
held breathless
by your nakedness,
my vision.

I remember you,
I remember you in a state,
a state of total nirvana.
You lay trembling
in a universe far away,
and I connected your dots
with tender kisses,
every single freckle
was a different galaxy.
And I was discovering
the big bang theory
with you,
the meaning of
quantum physics,
explosiveness
deep inside,
way deep inside,
your sweet lovely portal.

I love to spread
my plum sauce
on your
**** nectarines,
mix it up,
sift
& fold,
then taste
the hot-combination
of our zesty ingredients.

Such bold
raw-flavors
never grow old.
I am sold on the menu
& crave your appetite,
you are a connoisseur,
demure,
soft & pretty.

Me & you
never fight the menu,
our culinary arts
are exquisite
& delicious,
so scrumptious,
they're sacred,
obviously
made in Heaven.

We figured it out,
my lifelong friend and I
over fish tacos & raspberry tea.
It was in her nose earring,
star radiance &
the hidden meanings
of life.

Vlad was not a happy man.
In fact,
he was so unhappy,
so full of rage,
he impaled
just about everybody
he met.

There's a place I go,
it's hidden in between
the verses & stanzas,
painted in my heartfelt-words
oozes from my deeper-self,
the one I'm trying to touch.

And on this incessant
quest for reason,
the journey for complex explanations,
I find I'm not do different after all.

It's so very simple.

For the astral plane
seems full
of similarities,
loneliness,
broken dreams,
cracked skulls & broken hearts.

Thus, our search shall continue,
it will always be penned &
we will always
be in *******
to love,
one way
or another,
we know it.

We had heard about the big steel-beasts.
For weeks, vicious rumors had spread
like wildfire across the steppes.
Nothing was safe in their path.
They left death and destruction,
thousands of deflowered
women & girls
in their wake.

Late last night,
we heard the clanking,
felt the rumbling,
the shattering of earth
outside the city skirts,
then dead quiet, nothing,
not a single sound.

Early this morning,
Svetlana stumbled-delirious,
dazed toward the center of town.
Blackened eyes & missing teeth
adorned her bruised face,
dried blood-lines faded
from the corners of her mouth.
It appeared as if her jaw was broken,
vacancy was written in her eyes.
A crimson stain on her torn skirt
marked  the cleft between her legs.
A ******* arm band
hung around her neck.
She didn't say a word.

We heard the clanking again,
felt he rumbling,
the shattering of earth
as the Tigers left our village.
And by the way Svetlana looked,
quickly realized the rumors were true.

Wearily
I trudge
over endless dunes,
riding this single ****
on relentless trails.
I hold close to my heart
beautiful visions
of your sparkling
crystalline-eyes.
They drive me to you.
I follow the stars above
to your gentle touch,
the blessing
you give me.
And I am thankful
for your kiss(es),
to be between
your sweet thighs,
soon.

I'm in a jellyfish daze,
floating effortlessly
with stinging thoughts in mind,
still tentacled to reality,
so luminescent,
gelatinous
for you.

The monkey rode her back constantly,
a skilled jockey,
it watched her down cheap *****
until she no longer existed
in a clear state.
That's when the critter got heavy,
and her,
in a stupor,
could not shake that hairy devil.
It was hard to watch
her die that way.

Are things really that bad,
can we really not face another day,
count our lucky days,
be full of thankfullness!?

I mean it's not like
we're landing on
the beaches of Normandy
this morning,
hopping a freight to Auschwitz
to shower,
dressing warm to hunker down
at the Bulge,
gearing up for
a hike in Bataan
or stripping down
to catch some
bright rays at Hiroshima.

You see,
things could be
a helluva lot worse,
let's be grateful for living!

If I had a dollar for every poem I ever wrote,
I wouldn’t even have a grand.
How on Earth would I pay the monthly rent,
buy our food,
survive
darling?

I guess a goat & a yurt
doesn’t sound so bad after all.
We could start a garden,
grow some tomatoes & drink
fresh unpasteurized raw milk,
We could even make soap.
Fixin’ a hole in the ceiling would
just take a needle and thread.
What a simple life we’d lead,
we could actually talk to each other.

And in the winter,
we could spoon,
snuggle underneath
a real buffalo rug.
It would be groovy.
You could tug on my ear lobe
with your pretty teeth
& whisper how much
you loved me.

We were the perfect couple,
the master poets wrote about us,
more than a few books were written,
novels.

Then we got lost,
disappeared in time
& you forgot,
me.

O to hold you,
to kiss you,
to hear the beat of your precious heart,
again

O do you feel me Darling,
do you remember,
you called me your champion,
once.

I got the rock tunes
blaring
loudly
down at the
Dairy Queen
& we’re ******* off.

I fell in love
with her banana split,
the whipped cream
& the bushes.
So she jacked me.

And now
I’m infatuated
with fast food desserts
& her fast car.
Barracuda Barracuda.
A 426 hemi.

Spinning endlessly
opening spiritual signs
I feel like the Hajj

Dem white egrets
sure are skittish,
dey fly wildly
away.
But nawt
dem blue herons,
dey gawt bigger *****,
stay fisin' right dare
along da shoreline.
You should hear
dem gulls
laughin' at
all of dem,
and dat risin' sun.

We sat pow-wow-style
exchanging our war stories,
admiring the ****-filled room
full of swirling nicotine-smoke.

We joked with each other,
wondered about
loose lips sinking ships
& figured it wasn't these types
that sunk such vessels,
these ones ruined lives.

Waifs & wisps floated
miraculously about
while cheap perfume &
broken English
wafted our senses.

Desperate dripping
honeycomb-eyes
searched for
potential customers,
rot gut whiskies flowed
& disappeared to ease
the ******-tensions.

Everyone was there
to either ****
or to get drunk
'cause the
decor & atmosphere
literally ******.

She winked in her cute little bandana,
was standing strategically by the keg,
dressed non-discreetly in
a very **** skimpy-bikini.
The curls that wrapped
around her drop-dead beautiful face
accentuated her high striking cheekbones.
Her lips moved in slow motion,
the tip every now and then
licking the edges of her pretty mouth.
We made small talk about
the weather and current songs.
She kept telling me how handsome I was,
her striking-eyes seemed believable,
but I remained guarded,
I had heard those lines before.

The stars began to emerge as the sun sunk
lower and she wondered if I wanted to walk
with her, down to the edge of the ocean.
The beer had me feeling more relaxed
and I took her up on her offer.
Down we walked, slowly to the water's edge,
she taking my hand,
telling me how strong my grip was.
It seemed like we walked forever,
but before too long, we were out of earshot of the band, the party was just a blip on the horizon.
We looked to face one another,
it felt surreal, she made me feel stellar,
like we were having fun.

The moment was ripe, I dipped her hair away
from her full lips, placing mine on top of hers,
our tongues met, my heart melted.
There was a stirring below, a hardness
found by her searching hands.
As if on cue, she descended,
unzipped my jeans rather quickly,
took me fully into her mouth.
She seemed expert, it was glorious,
my eyes rolled back in my head,
I squirted into her closed mouth,
wrapped around her prize.
She stood up, kissed me on my quivering lips,
told me I was exquisite,
the best she ever had,
& I believed her.

We walked back slowly,
my arm around her slender shoulder,
talked about the future.
When we arrived back at the bonfire,
things had heated up, the music was cranked,
people were dancing like they had drank too much.
She told she wanted to freshen up, asked me if I wanted a beer, I answered her affirmatively and
off she went, back into the raucous crowd,
in the direction of the keg.

She never came back, I never saw her again,
I never even got her name or number.
I felt used, a bit heartbroken.
I think she just wanted to **** me,
then let me go free for personal reasons.
It seemed rather one-sided,
I was hoping we confide in each other.
Strange how that happens both ways sometimes.

O Dear Lady do you!
Do you desire me so,
do you long to feel
my gentle fingers
swirling, swirling
in between
the soft folds
of your fiery-mind,
touching your vivid imaginations,
you exposed & us so intimate,
your open heart exploding
for only me to feel,
do you see me?

Hot summer days & pop-up campers,
Dad with his chef hat
& Mum's lemonade.
We didn't even know it,
had it made in the shade.
Red checkerboard &
picnic chairs,
burgers & chips &
& big sister's
sweet oatmeal cookies.
Blow-up pool dragons
lay at our feet,
life was so idyllic,
& it ain't never coming back.
Makes me sick.

Words can only do so much,
they can stimulate the mind,
but I want to feel real.

I crave your skin on my skin,
I need to hear you whisper
secrets in my ear,
I will free-flow
my own dreams
deep inside into you,
let's taste
our sacred mixture
run
     down
my rosy-cheeks,
while you kiss me.

That would suffice!

I admit,
I'm naughty
& I'm nice,
too.

I want to trace
your lips
with a feather
and kiss them right,
take flight,
and never land
without you.

I have bricks to lay,
I can't stay here forever.

When I first saw her
cruise into the health food store,
I immediately thought of Camelot
and all those visions of chivalry.
But at the checkout line,
she was rough.
I mean,
mean,
like really ******,
treated the cashier
like dirt,
as if she were
all high and mighty.
I'm not sure what she's been through,
but it really doesn't matter,
she's afflicted with something
chivalry can't cure,
like the lack of a kind heart.
I'd rather date a friendly camel
with no humps,
I'm sure it wouldn't mind
a few manners.

The moving pistons,
such massive horsepower,
his cc's are tipping the scales,
those valves & rods are clicking,
revving rpm's to supersonic speeds,
spewing emissions to the
shifting gears of love.

When my empty bed whispers
& my room smells primordial,
I am always open
to remedial training,
other ways to see the light,
to succumb to the fight.

It's times like these
when one considers
throwing in the towel,
letting your guard down
to get loose & open up
to new experiences,
electric ones.

You buy the finest clothing
& know how to pick
the latest,
the greatest fashions.
Your selection of lace *******
is superb,
such sweet lingerie.
The black see-thrus
with the tiny red bows,
is nothing short of sacred.
Delicious.

I trace your outline
alone in the dark,
imagine
your sweet
feminine form
lying beside me,
every part of me
is on fire,
you burn
the same desire.

We move melodic,
locked in unison to
the beat of Kashmir.
I feel your temperature rise
as I move behind &
between your thighs.
Your closed eyes
speaks volumes,
it's the sweetest music
to my ears.

Strange, how
my fiery-imagination
leads to such
a succulent conclusion.
I free flow
molten lava
explosively into you,
images of me grasping
your thick hair
as you sigh
with mutual satisfaction.
I am drenched in
the dreams I have of you.

A crisscross breeze
nips
me
gently.

I can see the way,
clearly
they have come
for my resurrection.

Under twinkling stars,
the incense swirls,
its glow tip smoldering
into the heavens.

And here mortal,
I sing sacred songs
& spirit-drummers chant
while the ancients
ghost dance.

Okay,
so the streets are mean out there,
out there in the jungle,
the only jungle you've ever known.
Street hustlers & pimps,
neon fuzzies
& sirens.
Motorino pizza.
No place like home,
okay.

Now I know
how a vampire feels
when he meets the stake.
It ******* hurts.

I wonder if
Orion knows,
or even the Seven Sisters,
just how often
they've been crooned about,
by many a forlorn
& starstruck lover.

In verses &
in rhymes,
millions of lines
crying love,
the heartbreak
of our times.

I marvel.

So twinkle, twinkle on Orion
& you my Seven Sisters,
you dearest twinkling friends,
shine brightly in the pitch,
continue to give us hope,
to give us something
to still believe in,
to make our lives
more richer.

Lovely New Year morn!
I still hear firecrackers!
Give it a rest boys!

It’s been a weird day today,
the noon appointment
lasted nearly four hours,
I don’t even remember the return trip.

Ever since I got back to the office,
there’s a constant ringing
in my head,
people seem to be moving
in slow motion,
their eyes look buggy,
I don’t feel right.

And when did I get a
triangular tattoo on my temple?
This is really getting weird,
I’ve heard about such things,
I need to report a possible abduction.

I watched you from afar,
knowing,
knowing about my curse,
I am forever married
to the other demons of the night.

I fight my urge,
the urge to
**** your life from you,
to make you all mine,
my slave
for my own personal delight,
forever.

You are so fine,
the prettiest specimen of womanhood
my eyes have ever seen,
you set my cold heart on fire.

To rob the world of such beauty,
such poetry in motion
for selfish reasons,
would be dire,
bring dishonor
to our entire league,
our league of
hnorable bloodsuckers.

It's just my luck,
to fall in love
with such a cutie,
makes me hungrier,
lust for you more.

O darling!

With skies bursting madly,
we sat on the veranda
hugging our bodies,
searching each others eyes,
crying.

You sat there stoic
& with me so heroic,
we kissed to
the tune of rainfall
& teardrops.

Sadly,
though I tried,
I never did learn French,
but your English was perfect
like this memory.